


Power Outage

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (vaguely) - Freeform, Awkward Tony, Awkwardness, Betting Pool, M/M, One Shot, Pining, Poetic, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Power Outage, Stony (Freeform), Swearing, Tony-centric, they're gay, tony's stuck in the suit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2019-01-03 21:52:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12155511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The power goes out at the Avengers Tower. Due to structure damage, the generators don't go on and the Iron Man suit is at 0% battery. Naturally, Steve needs to come help him get out of it.Warnings for: Use of swear words (6 times) and very vague sexual mentions.





	Power Outage

JARVIS was the first one to notice, to bring it to attention,  
“The power has gone out. Due to structural damage in your previous fight, generators are nonfunctional.” The voice echoed out from Tony’s helmet, and he panicked. Natasha swore so loudly from the bathroom that Clint could hear. Bruce and Thor looked at each other and shrugged, continuing their conversation on the scientific differences between Asgard and Midgard. No one - not Natasha, who was now locked in the bathroom; or Wanda, unable to turn on her shower - was angrier than Tony.  
“God _dammit_!” Speaking to the AI luckily still present in his comm, he expressed his extreme discomfort. “JARVIS, how long until power comes back on?”  
“The city estimates thirty minutes to an hour, sir.”  
“Do we have enough power in the generators to get me out of the suit?”  
“No sir.”  
Tony sighed, slightly shifting his foot back for better balance. “JARVIS? Call Rogers.”  
As the dial tone began, he threw his head back in despair. This was going to be awful. Close proximity with one Steve Rogers, with the AC off, and the suit still on. The next situation would be overly hot, and sweaty. After what felt like forever, the phone finally clicked.  
“Tony, what’s going on?”  
“Power’s out. City says it’ll be out for an hour or so.”  
Steve sighed on the other side of the line, probably trying to track when the generator had been broken. “Is there anything else you mean to tell me?”  
Tony flexed his fingers uncomfortably as how easily the other man had seen his possible plea for help. “I’m stuck.”  
“In the lab?”  
“Yes.”  
“Just break a window. I know you can replace them.”  
“No, uh… The suit is at empty battery and well…”  
“Well what?”  
“JARVIS turned off with the power and now I’m stuck. Please come help me.”  
There was a pause as Steve tried to process what exactly was going on. Finally, he responded. “I’ll be there.”  
When the shattering of glass told of the team leader’s arrival, Tony tried not to startle. Of course, he did anyway, only staying upright by the quick reflexes of the blond. He was placed carefully back on his feet, and craned his head to catch a glimpse at Cap. Bad idea.  
Steve was still wearing the uniform, and now that Tony had no battle to focus on, he couldn’t help but narrow in on how well it hugged his muscles. He was panting somewhat from his sprint across the tower to rescue Tony, and his hair was messed from the cowl. It made Tony very aware of his possible, massive, totally platonic crush. He didn’t want to fuck Captain America, no way. (He stubbornly ignored that it was a good thing he was still wearing the codpiece.)  
A strong voice and a clap on the shoulder obviously tempered as to not throw Tony off balance tore him out of his reverie. “Right, so do you need me to do anything, or did you just call me for some company?” Tony scoffed at the question, rolling his eyes.  
“Oh yes Cap, I called you here for a good time. Can you grab the drill next to the toolbox,” he gestured vaguely with his head to the workbench, “And the one inch and one sixteenth bits? I’m going to need your help to get out.”  
Once he was firmly facing a broad back, the billionaire took a few steadying breaths. This was going to be fun.

The time passed by amicably, full of easy conversation. There was a jab at Steve’s age when he fumbled with the drill, and a well timed quip at Tony for being a genius but not making a failsafe. All was fine and dandy, if time consuming. Until, that is, the gauntlets. Due to the nature of the suit, it had to removed layer by layer… and that meant the gauntlets were last, and they were directly above him.  
Remembering the placements of the bolts, Tony inwardly berated himself for not thinking of this situation. In order to get the proper leverage and angle, Steve would have to stand right in front of him. Chest-to-chest, face all up in his business levels of close.  
“Alright, where’s the next bolt?”  
“The gloves. You’re going to have to stand in front of me to get the proper angle.”  
He watched blue eyes track the bolt, then begin to fill with bashfulness as his face turned red. “Oh. Do I need the one inch or one sixteenth?”  
“One inch, the machine is still connected.”  
The captain nodded and stepped forward, stretching up to reach for the bolt. When he couldn’t quite make contact, he took another, shuffling closer and closer until the drill bit properly settled in the socket. This left his chest pressed to Tony’s, hips just barely not touching. His neck was tantalizing close and - nope, not going there.  
Steve smelled nice, like aftershave and leather and just a bit like concrete powder from their earlier battle. His amazing blue eyes stared intently at the bolt he was working on, lightly biting the inside of his lip. Every breath taken could be felt, and Tony forced himself to lean back before he did something stupid. Unfortunately, that meant he went crashing to the ground when the gauntlets were finally loosened enough to free him. Or, he would have, if it hadn’t been for Cap’s quick reflexes.  
Before he could have even taken a failed step, strong hands were grabbing him just above his waist and pulling him back. Brown eyes met blue on their path to look him over, and Tony’s hands idly twitched from their resting spot on the back of muscled arms. Their faces were unbearably close, and Tony almost couldn’t help himself. He glanced down at the perfect dawn pink of lightly parted lips, and found himself licking his own.  
Steve chuckled breathlessly, drawing Tony’s attention back to his eyes. “Careful, you’d break your ankles.” Tony grinned back. “Luckily, you’re here to save me.” With that, Steve pulled back completely, hands lingering perhaps a second too long. “I guess it’s time to get you out of these,” He gestured to the boots, “One sixteenth?”  
Tony nodded, unable to summon even the simplest of words. He firmly ignored this section of removal, not ready to forever harbour the image of America’s Golden Boy kneeling at his feet, head bowed down low. (Even though it was just to free him of a stupid predicament.) A few minutes later, Tony felt the slackening of released boots and stepped back, finally looking back to Cap as he straightened up.  
A blinding white smile flashed at him, small crinkles around his eyes. A rush of adoration filled Tony to the brim, nearly overflowing, so there he was sure it was flooding from his every pore. He loved Steve so completely it could almost have scared him away, frightened of something he had never felt so strongly and felt he never would. After such a slow build, this sudden explosion was expected yet so startling. Tony felt he could just cry from the wave engulfing him. He didn’t. He held strong, limbs trembling in the storm. As Steve turned to put the drill away, the unstoppable force turned to confidence, drawing him nearer until he stood directly in front of the man of his affections. When he turned, Tony stepped forward, cupping a strong jawline and laning until he was a breaths’ width away. He locked their eyes and finally - _finally_ , Steve pressed closer, eyelids flickering shut. Tony could almost feel the fireworks. Some logical part of his brain berated him, because kisses are not like fireworks, they’re just wet, but the rest of Tony politely told his logic to shut the fuck up.  
Then, his logic set off his anxiety and Tony separated hastily, pulling back in an internal mess of “oh god” and “abort! abort!”, trying his damnedest to untangle his fingers from messy blond hair. Steve pulled his hands away from Tony’s hips, quickly latching onto his hands before he could leave. It was loose enough for Tony to yank free if he desired, but he didn’t.  
Steve’s face was an open book, concern and hurt and betrayal warring on his face. It would almost seem odd, indecipherable, so conflicting to anyone else, but Tony even more so in the height of his panic. “Tony? Tony, what-”  
He carefully, ever so barely tightened his grip. A reassurance. A worry. “What’s wrong?” When Tony didn't speak, he gently pressured. “Tony, what’s wrong?” Tony made himself look into blue eyes. It may be his last chance to do so, and he wanted to forever remembers it. A time before he fucked things up, before he couldn’t keep his stupid feelings in check. Before Captain America himself shunned Tony. He drank in every detail of his face, let it ground him. Prepared a lie about a happy instinct, of victories, of time spent with Pepper, felt it weigh heavy and wrong, wrong, _wrong_ on the tip of his tongue. He couldn’t lie to Steve, especially not now, especially not about this. If he was going to lose their friendship, he wanted it to be over the truth.  
As he began to speak, he felt the release of his wrists and would have panicked if not for fingers softly, slowly, reverently sliding down his palms to settle there, wrapping and entwining and holding so featherlight it might have been a dream. Words spilled from his lips, tangling and tripping and repeating themselves without a proper response formulated.  
“I love you, so much. Did, do, always will. I’m sorry, I can forget it, we can forget this ever happened but I love you. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have - I wasn’t thinking and it was impulsive and dumb and countless other things. I made a mistake and I was fueled by all this childish hope from… I don’t even know what. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t have please don’t hate me, please, _please_. You probably already do after that fight but please Steve, don’t tell me. Don’t tell me that, just ignore me. I’m so _sorry_.”  
Before he could fall to the ground - which it honestly looked he might - Steve pulled him in close, holding his face as delicately as one might a flower petal fallen from a half-dead rose. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I don’t mind, really. I like you too. Why else would I reciprocate?” He searched Tony’s face, groaning at what he found. “Don’t tell me it was out of the goodness of my heart.”  
At the sheepish smile, he laughed. “No, Tony. I like you too.”  
Tony split a grin, leaning his head against a calloused palm. He felt a thumb stroke his cheek, tender and gentle. Slow as the thawing of ice after a long winter, he stepped closer, grabbing Steve’s face and pulling him in for a kiss.  
It was amazing. Not quite chaste, but not a desperate clutch either, or a mournful farewell. It was a beginning, a promise. A joining of their souls at the present. It was theirs.  
As all things go wrong, this eventually did too. “Hey guys, are you still locked down here. Stark? Rogers?” They jerked apart but Natasha still saw. Letting out a low whistle, she clapped. “Bravo, took you long enough.” As her heels clacked up the stairs, she yelled once more. “Use protection!”  
Tony just about took off running after her, but a tug at his wrist stopped him. Tony was laughing by the time he was facing Steve again. “What do you think the odds are that she’s telling everyone right now?”  
“The odds are high. What do you think the odds are they had a betting pool?”  
“High.”  
Then, Tony considered something. “Wait, if everyone’s free… JARVIS?”  
“Yes sir?”  
“How long have you been on?”  
“An hour and twelve minutes, sir.”  
“We’ve been here for nearly two hours!”  
“Yes you have sir. I did not alert my presence as I could tell something good could come from it. I have also recorded the whole thing as proof in the betting pool, sir.”  
“Dammit JARVIS!”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all, let me know what you think. Pretty much kind of an experiment in a little more poetic writing, and some personal thoughts with Tony. I feel like he thinks about his responses and comments very carefully before he makes them, so blurting things out without any previous internal scripting doesn't turn out very fluidly. Anyway, bye.


End file.
